Author's note: I reread this a while ago and I'd forgotten how the story wasn't too bad. I'm going to slowly rewrite these four chapters, changing characters and small plots and the direction of said plot, and then continue with it. This will be canon-compliant excepting the Epilogue.

Devils in the Dark

Chapter I

Should she do it? It was a stupid thing to do, potentially fatal, and not just metaphorically or socially speaking. The girls would undoubtedly abandon her, and most likely, Draco and the boys would do so too, but her parents…? She mentally shuddered. The Cruciatus curse would not be enough to convey her mother's wrath. Her dad, however, had a sense of humour…

"Don't you agree, Pansy?" Pansy looked up from the spoon she had been staring at fixedly, to notice Daphne Greengrass pointedly looking at her. Doing some quick thinking, she came up with a response that she hoped would satisfy the current bitch session.

"Of course I do. Anybody would be a fool if they didn't." Daphne looked at her for a moment before turning back to Sally-Anne Perks to continue the bitching, leaving Pansy alone to thank the gods for the skill of placing contempt on a few well-chosen words that conveyed clearly her utter scorn of the question asked. This skill lay with very few people, and Pansy was inordinately proud of the fact that she was one of the few that could do it, and do it with an artistic flair.

"Oh, damn." Pansy muttered, realising that she had forgotten her books for transfiguration. "I'm just going to my room to get my books ok?" She gave a quick smile to Millicent Bulstrode, sitting on her left, before she got up, being very careful not to trip up, as she had done but a while ago, much to her chagrin.

Bastard Dark Lord. Pansy couldn't help but think that. She and Daphne, and for that matter, most of Slytherin had been friends with each other until his rise had turned everything into a competition. Now the supreme bitches in Slytherin were constantly trying to dethrone her, never mind the fact that there had been no official ascension in the first place.

Muttering the password to the Slytherin common room, she ran lightly up the stairs into her room, grabbed her books, and after a quick glance in the mirror to make sure she didn't look too awful, she ran downstairs, to sit in her favourite chair, tucking her feet underneath her. Leaning back her head against soft cushion present, she closed her eyes, thankful for a respite from the constant bitching and competition that had erupted with The Dark Lord's resurrection.

Christians get a God, we get a half-dead psychopath! Pansy was a little amused by the thought. Only a very little though.

"Sleeping again, are we, Parkinson? This can't be a good thing." She fought the shiver that had travelled down her spine at the sound and feel of the whisper in her ear.

"Sneaking up on unsuspecting victims again, Malfoy? That can't be a good thing." She looked up to see Draco Malfoy smiling at her, a glint in his eyes as he played with her auburn hair.

"People noticed you imagining me in the Great Hall." He said, with a smirk. Her heart thumped louder, even though for once, she hadn't been thinking about him.

"Yes, but unfortunately, I think most of those tortures are illegal now. Shame. They could be useful." Damn his contagious smile. She smiled back at him. How could she not? He moved away and sat on the left arm of her armchair.

"Want to know my latest conquest?" There was a mischievous, if not a purposely aggravating tone in his voice, and Pansy lost the little hope she had left, of this day turning out to be tolerable. He knew she fancied him. Well, that wasn't strong enough. More along the lines of worshipped him, stalked him, obsessed with him. And that was still an understatement!

"Must I? It's very monotonous, you know, Draco. That means boring." Might as well imply that he's stupid, Pansy thought, with a mental grin. She moved out of the chair, and in the single moment that she had turned her back to him, he managed to slip himself into her chair, and grab her around the waist, and pull her so that she was sitting down on him.

"I don't care." He murmured, before giving her a quick kiss on the neck. "It was Melissa Brandle-Moore." He paused, waiting for the explosion that he knew was coming.

"Mmm…" He sensed Pansy's body tense as what he had just said registered in her mind. "Wait, Melissa? Melissa? That tart? The one that messed around with my brother? DRACO! You foul, irritating, blond, little…ferret!" Her voice had gone quiet with venom. She struggled to get out of his hold, but he only chuckled and held her more tightly. "Let…me…go…! LET ME GO YOU…"

"You what, Pans?" Draco asked, feigning innocence. Pansy finally gave up her cause as lost and stopped struggling. "Good girl." Draco was nuzzling her neck in a most distracting manner. It not only sent shivers down her back again, but there was a very real danger that dirty images might pop into her head, which were a little hard to get rid of. "Have I ever told you how cute you are when you fail miserably in getting away from me?"

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you? And I'm the one that's supposedly following you around." The mutter was meant to be loud enough for Draco to hear. His response was a small, low laugh. "We really should leave."

"That's just what Melissa said to me last night."

"How could you be with that WHORE? She cheated on Adam with two guys! Not one, but TWO!"

"I'm not in a relationship with her. I just wanted…some fun." He knew she would remain irritated for at least an hour. "We'd better go, Pans." He guided her towards the door, with his right arm around her waist. "Out of curiosity, what were you actually thinking about in the Great Hall?"

Pansy blinked in surprise at the question. Draco wasn't well known for being considerate and it was out of character for him to betray the slightest interest in anyone else, even her. "Oh, I've forgotten." She replied warily. Who knew what Draco was really up to?

"Parkinson, when will you learn that you can't lie to me?" Draco drawled in his most consequential, arrogant manner. He added thoughtfully, "Or anyone else. You're one of the worst liars I've ever met."

"Thanks." Pansy said with a snap and rolled her eyes for additional effect.

"So what were you really thinking about?" Draco asked again, curious and persistent.

Pansy recognised this as a losing battle and spoke, trying to retain some sort of dignity. "I was just wondering whether I should get an afro or not." She turned to see Draco looking at her incredulously. "Why?" She couldn't imagine what hidden agenda Draco had this time, but he always had one.

"Oh, Daphne mentioned something about you thinking about losing weight to attract Justin Finch-Fletchley." He grinned at the incense apparent on her face. "I'll see you in class. Melissa's waiting for me outside." And with that and a wink, he was off, leaving Pansy alone to walk to Transfiguration and mutter obscenities at Melissa and Daphne Greengrass, another former friend of hers (now). Did she really think anyone would believe that she, Pansy Parkinson, had any sort of crush or attraction to Finch-Fletchley?

She thought back to Draco's reaction, and she felt a little sick in the stomach. Maybe she should give more credit to Daphne's cunning? Draco had clearly believed her enough to come to Pansy and question her about it, which was a bad thing; a very bad thing!

Slowly, the full implications were coming into focus, and a frown descended upon Pansy's brow. If Draco had believed it, there were others who may have believed it. Finch-Fletchley and his twitchy little friends would take full advantage of this rumour and humiliate her at every given opportunity. In all fairness, she'd have done the same, so she couldn't really resent them for it. What about the Gryffindors? They'd mock her too. And what about the Slytherins?

Pansy could have sworn that her stomach shrank to a fraction of its normal size at the thought. There was competition between all of the Slytherins, and it was beginning to get more underhanded than usual. It wouldn't be long before all limits were off and things became really cut-throat. This kind of rumour was powerful arsenal, if used in the right way. Pansy thought about Daphne. Such a short girl, barely reaching five feet in height; a petite nymph-like figure, large eyes of a brilliant blue and bouncy blonde waves that reached inches below her shoulders. Pansy thought about how her well-shaped lips could curl into an unpleasant sneer and how the blue in her eyes looked heartless and ruthless when she wanted something badly. Gods, this was definitely an arsenal that could be used against her, and if she knew Daphne, it would be used against her.

She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit she had developed recently. She would have to do something to counter this danger, to neutralise it. She came to a decision, albeit a little reluctantly, but the consequences made it a necessity to act.

Revenge was the plan of action.

Author's note: Please, please, please if you read this, would you review it? I would love constructive criticism on anything – characterisation, plot, spelling, grammar. It's the only way I know if I'm doing something right or something wrong, so if you could, please spare the time to review the chapter.